Just a Normal Christmas
by ForgottenPages
Summary: It's Christmas Eve, 2005. Shawn just happens to be in Santa Barbara over the holidays. He goes to a local diner for Christmas dinner...what happens there just might change his life. My First Annual "Christmas in July" story.


Disclaimer: I do not own _Psych_ or any of its original characters.

A/N: Hello! I'd like to welcome everyone to my first annual (inspiration willing!) Christmas in July story. It's the time of year of heat, vacations, and fun; but come one…you can't help but miss the warmth and joy of Christmastime just a _little_ right? So here you go: a little taste of an early _Psych_ Christmas. Enjoy!

* * *

 **Christmas Eve—2005**

He sat down on the motel bed, barely noticing how little give the mattress had. He didn't care. He had slept on worse than board-stiff mattresses. Heck, when he was nine, his Dad had made him pitch his tent on the gravel driveway so he wouldn't kill the grass. Even with two sleeping bags under him, he had felt the rocks gouging through. But like now, he hadn't cared. He'd had other things on his mind then, he had other things on his mind now.

He picked up the phone and quickly dialed the familiar number. The phone rang once, twice…eight times. It went to voice mail. Shawn cleared his throat to clear the lump that had formed. "Uh, hey, Gus. I know you're probably busy with family stuff, it being Christmas Eve and all. But, uh, I was hoping that—" he paused, considering the request he was about to make. He snorted and shook his head, physically telling himself that what he wanted to ask was too much. He continued the message, "—that I could just tell ya 'merry Christmas.' I miss you, man. Catch ya later." He hung up the phone.

Shawn had always wondered what Christmas was like at the Guster household. When he was a kid, he'd asked Gus once, but Gus just said, "You know, just normal Christmas."

To Shawn, a normal Christmas was his parents arguing upstairs while he opened gifts by himself. When his parents finally did come downstairs, they sit on the couch and watch him play with his new toys from them and Santa, fake and sticky sweet smiles plastered on their faces as though they thought he didn't know they had been fighting…again. Christmas dinner was always good, but quiet, lingering discord carrying throughout the day. The joy that Christmastime promised never seemed to enter the Spencer home.

When Shawn left home, he didn't feel like he was missing anything when Christmas came around. Sure, there were no free presents for him to open, or a home cooked meal; however, he found that Denny's or IHOP wasn't such a bad compromise, and he could splurge and buy himself something fun.

He lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Why did this Christmas feel different? Why was it now that he wanted the warmth of friendship, companionship, when it hadn't mattered for years now? "You're getting soft, man," he muttered to himself, then snorted a bitter laugh. "Christmas is just another day of the year."

Shawn rolled over and grabbed the list of local restaurants and diners on the bedside table. He was hungry and wouldn't mind a turkey dinner. He decided to give a little local place a try, even though he would have preferred a Denny's.

It was a five minute drive on his motorcycle, and the diner was almost completely void of customers. Shawn decided to give it the benefit of the doubt and blame the fact that it was Christmas Eve for the lack of people inside. He parked his bike and went inside.

"Just you, kid?" an older woman, and presumably the waitress, drawled, shoving aside her newspaper and looking at Shawn with drooping, tired eyes.

"Yeah," Shawn said, blinking. He hadn't been called 'kid' in years. "Just me."

"You and me both," the waitress said with a heavy sigh. "You wanna sit down at the counter, or would you rather sit at a booth?"

Shawn smiled and shrugged. "Whichever's easier for you, ma'am."

The waitress slapped the counter. "Have a seat. Our special today is turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, peas or carrots, and a slice of peach pie with a cup of decaf coffee."

Shawn sat down. "Mmm. That sounds good."

"It is," the waitress agreed, "if you like dried out turkey, barely warm mashed potatoes, a slice of the worst pie this side of the border, and coffee thick as sludge."

"Oh. Wow. Um," Shawn hawed awkwardly.

The waitress smiled broadly. "I'm joshing ya, kid. Hal's food will make you hate your mama's cooking."

Shawn swallowed but laughed. "In that case, I'll take the special with no vegetables."

"Vegetables aren't optional, kid. Peas or carrots?"

Maybe it was something in her tone that prevented Shawn from arguing the rule that the customer's always right. "Carrots."

The waitress winked. "I'll have that out for you in a jiffy." She disappeared through a door into the kitchen.

The jangling sound of the entrance door opening behind him made Shawn turn around. He was surprised to see an older man shuffle in, tucked stiffly inside an old, worn coat. He met Shawn's eye before walking forward and sitting down at the counter two seats away.

"Judy!" the man bellowed. "Get me the special with carrots!"

The waitress—Judy—came out of the kitchen, holding a plate of food, and eyed the man wearily. "I've got it right here for ya, Don. No need to shout. You're the one who's late, ya know."

Don smiled. "Hey, darling. Merry Christmas."

Judy put the plate down in front of him. "Bah, humbug," she grumbled, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

"You don't mean that," Don chuckled.

"Like heck I do," Judy returned. "It's only a merry Christmas if you've got someone to spend it with. I get to stick around here and spend it with you and Hal."

"Hey," the man argued lightly, "You couldn't ask for better company."

Judy sniffed. "That's where you're wrong, guy."

Shawn watched the exchange with interest, but didn't comment. Judy put a glass of water in front of him. "Here ya are, kid, unless you want soda or something instead."

"No, water's fine," Shawn said.

"What's a young guy like you doing in a place like this Christmas Eve?" Don asked suddenly, swiveling in his chair so that he was facing Shawn.

Shawn grinned and stared at his glass of water. "It's as close to a home cooked meal as I can get, I guess," he replied honestly.

"Long way from home?" Judy asked, leaning on the counter

"Few miles, actually," Shawn admitted. He didn't know whether or not he liked the interest these strangers were taking in his life, but something inside of him longed to open up. Still, he hesitated a moment before adding, "I used to live in Santa Barbara when I was a kid and just got back to the area this afternoon."

"Got any family in the area?"

"My dad. But we haven't talked in _years_. I don't even know if he's still in Santa Barbara, actually," Shawn said. He tried to smile, but he couldn't even force the expression to faintly cross his face. Instead, he glanced back at his water and turned the glass slowly between his hands.

"That's tough," Judy sympathized. "You know, I left home twenty years ago because I thought I could make it big in Hollywood. As you can see," Judy raised a sarcastic eyebrow, " _that_ didn't work out. Never went back to Louisiana, though. Been stuck here. Truth be told, if it weren't for me, Hal would've lost this place years ago."

"It's Judy's Southern Belle charm that keep the regulars coming back," Don chuckled.

Judy humphed, shoved away from the counter, and disappeared into the kitchen, muttering something about checking on the 'kid's supper.'

"She's a heartbreaker, that one," Don muttered.

Shawn didn't know whether to take the comment seriously or not until he cast a sideways glance and caught the look of adoring on the worn man's face. He smiled. "How long have you known her?" he asked.

"Twenty years," Don said. "Fell in love the first moment I saw her. I've asked her to marry me a few times, but she always turns me down."

"Why?" Shawn asked.

"She likes what we have," Don replied. "She doesn't want to change that."

Shawn wasn't sure what to say. "I'm sorry," he said after a moment.

"Well," Don sighed, "that's life. For twenty years, I've come in here at least once a day just to see her. She knows when to expect me, and if I'm late, she tells me off and says I just about worried her half to death…" Don chuckled. "I still hope that one day, she'll change her mind, and we can be more than just good, old friends."

"I'm sure she will," Shawn said, "one day."

Judy came out of the kitchen with Shawn's supper. "Here ya are, kid. One special with carrots. Eat up, and put some meat on those bones."

"Thank you," Shawn said.

"Have any plans for Christmas?" Judy asked.

Shawn shook his head. "Nah. I'll probably head out in the morning."

"Where?" Don asked.

"Anywhere," Shawn replied with a wink, "I like my life. I only carry as much as will fit in the saddlebag on my bike, get jobs where I can, quit when I'm bored…I get bored really fast."

"Sounds like you miss having a home," Judy said.

Shawn laughed. "I just said I like my life. It's fun, it's interesting."

"Sounds like a living hell, pardon the expression," Judy said bluntly. "Now you listen here, kid, you call up someone who cares about you just this very minute, say you're gonna drop by tomorrow afternoon for dinner, and you're bringing along the best darn pie you've ever tasted."

Before Shawn could protest, Judy grabbed the phone from behind the counter and plopped it in front of Shawn with a clattering thud. "Go on, then, do it," she demanded.

Instinct prompted Shawn to do as he was told; however, he gave Judy a withering look in an attempt to dampen the pleasure she must've been getting from being obeyed without comment. He dialed Gus's phone number again and prayed he wouldn't answer.

It rang once, twice… "Hello?"

Shawn almost dropped the phone, but he caught himself and gripped it tighter. "Hey, Gus! It's Shawn."

"Shawn?"

"Yeah," Shawn said. He laughed nervously, swallowed, and relayed the message Judy had given him, "I was just calling to ask if it would be alright if I dropped by tomorrow afternoon for dinner…I'd bring along a pie." When Judy mouthed at him, he added, "The best pie you'll ever have this side of the border."

Judy smiled.

"That'd be great, Shawn," Gus said, "Where are you?"

"Uh," Shawn hesitated, "at a motel just outside Santa Barbara."

"C'mon, son!" Gus retorted, "You know you can stay at my place. We'll watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas. The one with Jim Carrey in it."

"And the original cartoon version?" Shawn asked.

"You know that's right," Gus agreed.

Shawn smiled. "Sounds awesome, man. Let me finish dinner and I'll be right over."

"Okay, see ya in a bit."

"Bye," Shawn said. He hung up the phone.

"That sounded like it went well," Judy said triumphantly. "Now, eat your supper and get out of here. I'll go get your pie boxed up for tomorrow." She disappeared into the kitchen.

"How did she get me to do that?" Shawn asked, turning to Don.

The man shook his head and sighed. "Dang, do I love that woman."

"When's the last time you proposed?" Shawn asked.

Don rolled his eyes upward, as though it took a moment to recall. "Five years ago," he said.

"Maybe you should ask her again?" Shawn suggested quietly. "The worst she could do is tell you no again, right?"

Don reached in his coat pocket and brought out a ring box. "I think of doing it everyday," he said. He opened the box and showed Shawn the gold band studded with a small, sensible diamond. Neither of them noticed Judy come out with Shawn's boxed up pie.

"Heck, Donny, you finally proposing to me again?" she asked.

Don startled. "Well…that is," he stammered.

"Yes, I accept," she stated.

"What?" Don nearly choked.

"You're asking me, aren't you?" Judy asked. "I say yes. Let's do it."

Don's mouth worked, but no words or sound came out. Shawn spoke up, "Put the ring on her, man! You're engaged!"

* * *

Shawn showed up at Gus's apartment two and a half hours later. The excitement of Don and Judy's engagement consumed the diner. Hal came out front and pie was served and stories were shared. Everyone treated Shawn like he was part of the big happy family. The feelings that struck the chords of his emotions made him wonder if this is what Christmas should always have felt like. Was this what Gus had meant, all those years ago, when he told Shawn, "you know, just normal Christmas." If this was normal Christmas, Shawn liked it. A lot.

He stayed until the diner closed. He got an invitation to the wedding, a firm handshake from Don, a kiss and hug from Judy, a slap on the back from Hal. He promised he would come to the diner whenever he was around, too.

"That must've been some dinner," Gus retorted lightly when he opened the door for Shawn.

Shawn smiled. "You have no idea. I'll tell you all about it…but first, do you want to be my plus one at a wedding?"

* * *

END

A/N: The ending was fluffy, I know. Kind of cotton candy fluffy. Short and sickeningly sweet. But aren't all good Christmas stories supposed to be a little bit soppy? C'mon! Thanks for reading, hope to hear from you in the comments. Let me know if Christmas in July stories should become a thing (not just from me, but anyone who inspiration happens to strike with its magic wand).

Sincerely,

ForgottenPages


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